When Ben left the stand the elder Barriscale was called to it to tell of existing industrial conditions in the city, and of the danger of violent interference with peaceful workmen and the rights of property; such interference as might, and probably would, in the absence of the state police, call for protection at the hands of the National Guard. He gave it as his judgment, although the admission of his declaration was strenuously objected to by Brownell as being but opinion evidence, that it would be utterly unsafe to entrust the protection of property and the lives of workmen to a body of troops in command of an officer with the record of Lieutenant McCormack. “Mr. Barriscale,” asked Brownell, on cross-examination, “are you aware that when Lieutenant McCormack received his commission, he swore to defend the constitution of the United States and of this State, against all enemies, foreign and domestic?” “I presume he did,” was the curt reply. “And you believe that he now stands ready to violate that oath?” “I believe that the oath means nothing to him as against the red-flag and red-hand policy that he advocates, and the traitorous class whose cause he has taken up.” “You share with your son a certain resentment and bitterness against the defendant on account of his success in the election to the first lieutenancy?” “I thought and still think, sir, that that election was an outrage against decency. No self-respecting man should be content to serve under an officer so elected, and so identified with the worst elements in the community.” The witness’s face was red with rage, and he pounded the table in front of him with his clenched fist as he spoke. “That is all, Mr. Barriscale.” Suave and smiling, Brownell waved the manufacturer from the stand. To draw from a witness an admission of hatred for the person against whom he is testifying is to give a body blow to the value of his testimony, and in this respect Brownell was well satisfied with his cross-examination of the Barriscales, both father and son. Then came the star witness for the prosecution in the person of Chick Dalloway. Poor Chick! For two hours he had been waiting outside the court-room in abject misery. Since the day when Brownell revealed to him the probable result of having given certain information to McCormack’s enemies, he had scarcely eaten or slept. Once he had gone to McCormack himself, to bewail his unfortunate revelations. It was pitiful to see him. Hal tried to cheer and comfort him, but he would not be comforted. Now, at the trial, under the badgering of Barriscale’s lawyer he was about to clinch the fate of the best friend he had on earth. He knew it. He knew that after he had said what he would be compelled to say, Halpert McCormack would be discredited as a citizen and disgraced as a soldier; and he, Chick Dalloway, would be absolutely powerless to prevent it.